


out of the cold

by amonkeysue



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Minor Character Death, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor Original Character(s), Natasha Romanov-centric, Natasha and Yelena both need hugs, Red Room (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 09:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19827493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amonkeysue/pseuds/amonkeysue
Summary: Natasha's always known that the Red Room didn't vanish after she left, and that she's the only one the Room is likely to reveal themselves to. She still doesn't expect it to happen quite so soon, or what she finds when she goes looking.AKA a different, semi-MCU take on Natasha and Yelena's story and how they meet.





	out of the cold

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea sitting around for a while and finally got around to writing it... plus it'll be nice to get it out there before we get anything more solid on what's hopefully Yelena in the Black Widow movie!  
> Also, this might be somewhat expected with the territory but if anyone wants to be warned about it: there is allusion to children dying and killing each other. Minor characters do die, with some of the violence that causes this somewhat described.  
> Some creative liberties were taken with elements of Natasha's backstory here.

Between New York and officially joining the Avengers, Natasha was almost uncomfortably aware that she was beyond being quite as discreet as she usually hoped to be.

Clint was the only one that really understood that brand of spy/assassin paranoia, but they both fully knew where he couldn’t personally grasp the weight that it held for her.

It was still nice to have him sticking out the small celebration New York was having for the Avengers on the first year anniversary of the Battle with her, both of them all too happy to have effective free run of the Tower’s lounge in the meantime.

You didn’t exactly maintain a low profile by completely advertising yourself to the world, after all.

They each sat with a leg crossed over the other’s, comfortably sprawled out across the largest couch. While Natasha absentmindedly flipped through TV channels, Clint tried to toss singular M&Ms into his mouth, frowning at every miss.

“You’re a perfect shot everywhere else and yet you can barely manage to hit your own mouth,” she wryly teased.

Clint sighed, dramatically putting both of his shoulders into the motion. “First of all, it’s a completely different way of shooting and second of all, it’s harder than it looks.” He pushed the M&Ms bag towards her. “And you can poke at me when you’re doing it.”

“Uhuh.” Natasha fished out an M&M from the bag and held her arm out in position for a second before tossing the M&M towards her mouth. As it solidly landed in her mouth she broke into a triumphant smirk.

He gave an annoyed groan. “Oh c’mon. That was fluke timing.”

“I don’t see what the problem is,” she primly said, taking another M&M before pushing the bag back over to Clint. “It’s not that hard,” she added on after successfully tossing the other M&M into her mouth.

“You’ve been practicing doing this when I’m not around just to show me up.”

She warmly laughed. “Think whatever you want, I’m still better at it than you.”

“Yeah yeah. And I could still easily throw one at you and not miss.”

“Might want to make sure you’re not getting out of touch, Hawkeye,” Natasha teasingly said before holding her mouth open.

They both smiled as Clint’s toss easily landed the M&M into her mouth.

At the commercial break on some housing show Natasha had briefly stopped on, Clint quietly cleared his throat and looked over at her, shifting his hand to her knee to better catch her attention. “You’re not thinking anywhere near New York.”

“No,” she agreed, pausing before looking at him and briefly reflecting on how surprising it still occasionally felt to have someone that knew her so well. “Other side of the world.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

She shrugged with her nearest shoulder. “It’s nothing new.”

“Still.” Clint slightly shifted his hand on her knee. “Doesn’t mean it’s not bothering you in a different way than it has before.”

“Mmm.” She leaned her head back against the cushion. “You know me too well, Barton.”

He wryly chuckled. “Awww, Nat. I just am really good at knowing my partner. It’s an important character trait, you know.”

“Yeah, and forever a bit of a pain in Fury’s side.” Natasha had a small smile as she spoke, her expression quickly sobering as she finished. “I know gathering sufficient intel on the doings of the Room and Department X is a matter of time before we gain anything actionable, but I also know they’re there, not necessarily waiting for me, but…”

“You want to make sure it’s gone,” Clint finished. “And that’s going to be personal business.”

She finally looked over at him. “There’s a part of me that wonders if I can tip the Room’s hand by coming out more into the public sphere, inviting them to reach out somehow.”

“You know the Room best.” After taking a glance down Clint moved his hand off Natasha’s knee to reach for her hand, both of them easily slipping their fingers together. “Nat,” he began, his voice dropping to a murmur, “just remember that while you can go after them alone, you’re not actually alone-alone. SHIELD and the Avengers would happily be right at your back. And I’m always there.”

“You’ll be my first call if I need someone watching my back,” she reassured in a matching murmur.

Clint broke into an affectionate smile and lightly squeezed her hand. “Go get ‘em.”

“Well it’s not going to be that easy,” she replied with a lighthearted eye roll, simultaneously unable to keep from breaking into another small smile.

“Still. I have zero doubts that you’ll get ‘em when you get the chance.”

She squeezed his hand back. “I’ll make sure to remember this pep talk once I’ve got a lead bigger than wandering around Russia to knock on random doors.”

“We’ve had worse plans,” he quipped with a one-shouldered shrug.

\--

Getting an “URGENT” text from Maria followed by an immediate call elicited more immediate curiosity from Natasha than concern. URGENT could mean anything from a time sensitive mission (less likely, given that Fury had been prioritizing Avengers business for her and Clint), to a paperwork fix (unlikely) or Maria needing a night out (easily possible).

Natasha had told Maria many times that they needed to come up with a better system beyond the URGENT text and a follow up phone call. She had even suggested which follow up emojis to use for at least ten different possible situations only for Maria to forget or elect to ignore her suggestions.

Maybe a homemade communications manual wouldn’t make a bad birthday gift…

“Hey Deputy Director Hill,” Natasha casually greeted as she answered the call, “Should I be grabbing my work or casual boots?”

Maria replied without a pause. “Work. SHIELD picked up something here in New York you’ll want to see.”

“Do I get to hear anything more before I get there?”

“Could be useful intel, but I’ll leave that to you. I’ll see you soon.”

“Base or Helicarrier?”

“On base.”

“Copy that. I’ll see you soon.”

True to her word, Natasha hurried over to the base, quickly checking in past security and finding Maria in her office, comfortably settled behind the desk.

Maria gave her a nod in greeting, somewhat gesturing towards the chair across the desk in the motion. “I’ve got a briefing before you go into interrogation.”

Natasha raised a brow. “Who am I jumping into interrogating?”

“According to her ID, Marianna Sergeeva.” Maria passed a photo of the woman’s ID photo across the desk. “We were following a lead for some potential issues with the Russian mafia when the agents on intel gathering saw Miss Sergeeva meet with the leadership.”

“Where’s the Red Room connection?” Natasha asked, a tight note to her voice.

“The agents had a listening device in with the leadership and heard the conversation with Miss Sergeeva. She apparently came to talk about utilizing the mafia in coordination with the Red Room to smuggle their agents into New York to increase their efforts in looking for a former asset.” Maria arched a brow of her own. “I’m assuming she meant you.”

Natasha nodded. “Hence the taking her in directly after that rather than following her around.” She toyed with the edge of the photo. “How much has anyone talked to her yet?”

“Only enough for initial processing. She’s been fairly quiet otherwise, especially unless she’s being addressed in Russian.”

“Anything in particular you want me to ask?”

Maria shook her head. “You’ve got full freedom going into the interrogation.” As Natasha stood back from the table, she added on, “Miss Sergeeva’s in Interrogation B.”

“Meet you back here when I’m done?”

“If I need to leave I’ll let you know where I am.”

Natasha nodded as she left, trying to keep from falling into too hurried of a stride down the hallways as she went for Interrogation B.

If she believed in a greater fate, Marianna Sergeeva’s sudden appearance certainly would seem to be a lot more than sheer coincidence, especially with the likely potential of the Room looking for her.

At the very least, having any sort of solid lead to finding an active portion of the Red Room was an immensely welcome change of circumstances.

Two agents were positioned as guards outside Interrogation B and carefully regarded Natasha as she walked up.

The seeming senior of the two gave her a small nod. “Agent Romanoff. Deputy Director Hill told us to expect you. We’ll just need you to sign the cell log before we let you in.”

“Understood.” Natasha quickly jotted down her signature before the junior agent punched in the door code to Interrogation B to let her in.

“Agent Romanoff,” another agent quietly greeted from where they stood at attention just inside the cell.

She responded with a short nod, not taking her eyes off Marianna Sergeeva sitting there with both her hands cuffed to the table in front of her. A small note of surprise registered in Marianna’s expression at Natasha’s entrance, but she quickly shifted into a confident smirk.

“Well. Natalia, what a surprise.” She spoke in Russian.

Natasha responded in turn as she gracefully settled down across from Marianna. “I could say the same for you, Marianna Sergeeva.” She thoughtfully paused. “If that’s what you would like me to call you?”

“Marianna will be fine,” she smoothly said while tossing her hair back. “And it truly is a pleasure to see you, Natalia. We have wondered where you ended up in the world and you certainly seem to be doing well for yourself, working with the Avengers. What a life story you must have to tell.”

“It’s gripping,” Natasha flatly commented. “But you didn’t actually know that I was with them until seeing me here. You just had rumors.” She gave a short sideways nod. “Good rumors, granted, if you were confident enough to go to the mafia to work on getting more Room agents out here to look for me, but still not solid intel.”

“I was wondering how much this SHIELD had heard in order for them to take me in.” Marianna tapped her fingers on the table. “They must be quite good, to have bugged our people that thoroughly.”

Something reminiscent of a vague smirk crossed Natasha’s expression. “Maybe your people are getting sloppy, separated from the Motherland.”

“Tell me, is that what joining the Avengers is to you? Becoming sloppy? A weakness?”

“No,” Natasha said with a sharp laugh, “joining the Avengers is becoming better than what the Room taught me to be.”

Marianna clicked her tongue. “So ungrateful for what we taught you when you’re the one that came to us in the first place, Natalia.”

She slightly shrugged with one shoulder. “Don’t misunderstand me, some parts of my… education have been very useful to my course of life. I simply opted to learn for myself what parts I wanted to take with me and what to move beyond.”

“You certainly have to be the Room’s star pupil.”

Natasha couldn’t keep from slightly frowning, quickly switching back to an impassive expression. “If your star pupil left, that may say a thing or two about the program.”

Amusement crinkled the edges of Marianna’s eyes as she gave an open laugh. “You have been a source of many lessons yourself, especially in the years since your departure.”

“Sounds like a fun story.” Natasha paused. “But if you feel like sharing, you could always tell me what finding me was going to accomplish. I have to confess to be curious.”

“We’ve seen glimpses of you, but it has been far too long since we had the opportunity to actually address you.” Marianna’s eyes sparkled, the exact emotion within hard to pin down. “A visit to your old home could be enlightening.”

“An updated address would be useful for that.”

Marianna smiled, her eyes calculating. “You can find a part of the Room outside Lipetsk. Getting there should not be a problem for you.”

“Is it worth asking what sort of welcome to expect?” Natasha drily asked.

“That entirely depends on you.” Marianna again tapped her fingers against the table.

Natasha thoughtfully looked at her, quiet for a moment before speaking again. “You’re too young to have known me in the years of my training, Marianna Sergeeva. How much do you know about me?”

“Your parents gave you to the Room at a young age, and you excelled in your training above the other girls in your class. Madame B. recognized the breadth of your potential and recommended you to work with the KGB beyond your assignments with the Room after your graduation. You shaped yourself into one of the best assassins Russia had ever seen, feared by our enemies in whispers and rumor.” Marianna slightly frowned. “Then you left to come to the United States, forgoing your home.”

“Is that what this is to you? Loyalty to the homeland?”

Marianna held her chin up. “I still remember what that means.”

Natasha wanly smiled and slightly pushed her chair back from the table. “I would not presume that I have forgotten what it means to be loyal.”

As Natasha stood Marianna leaned forward on the table. “Russia still holds surprises for you, Natalia Alianovna Romanova. And if you look for them, even from the shadows, they will find you without fail.” Her voice grew more passioned as Natasha walked towards the room’s doorway.

She paused just before leaving to give Marianna one of her even-faced smiles. “Thank you for your consideration.”

\--

Natasha had left for Lipetsk as soon as she could wrangle transport and after studying some satellite photos of the city and surrounding areas.

She took the extra precaution on her arrival of landing at the SHIELD facility outside of Moscow before catching the train to Lipetsk, complete with a small cover story of a metalworking background if it became necessary at any point.

There were a few areas that she wanted to scope out to gauge their likelihood of being a Red Room facility just outside the city limits, but her first stop was securing her hotel room. Instinct also had her casually checking over her shoulder all the way along her travels.

No one was on her for the time being, and her room would be simple to manage. There was plenty of room for her usual indicators if anyone else had been around, the window gave her good sight lines around the area and was stationed to be awkward for the unlikely event of any snipers coming to play, the room was positioned decently close to a stairway…

She shouldered on her second favorite leather jacket and headed out to stock up on some snacks before scoping out her earmarked locations of interest.

Recon always sucked without some food right on hand, as Clint was fond of saying.

Navigating the streets of Lipetsk briefly brought on an unexpected stab of memory.

_Young enough to the point where she almost couldn’t remember, she held the hand of an auburn haired man on her left, his eyes dancing with a delighted smile as he looked down at her._

_“See that, my little Natalia? That is where the ballerinas train.”_

_Her eyes were wide, childish delight written all over her face. “Will I get to go there?”_

_To her right, her mother, with brown hair pulled back into what could’ve been a ballerina’s bun, gently squeezed her hand. “Someday, if that is how you want to live your life.” Her smile was warm, her eyes affectionately crinkled. “And I will eagerly look forward to seeing what my little girl accomplishes. Whatever forms that takes.”_

In her early days within the Red Room, it had been the memory she most often came back to, to remind herself why she was going through the training and had to succeed. Those happy moments with her parents had been long gone with the death of her mother, but she had been driven onwards in hope of honoring their sacrifices for her, to make them and Russia proud.

Now it felt whole lifetimes ago, and, Natasha ruefully reflected, that notion wasn’t too far off from the reality of the situation.

Back in Russia was the perfect place to figuratively bury the memory of her parents at least, imagining them walking off with that little girl far around a corner.

God, her SHIELD assigned therapist would have a field day if she ever found out about that.

Moving on from reminiscing on her early motivations to excel lest Madame B. come waltzing around the next corner, Natasha hurriedly focused back on obtaining food and getting to a suitable observation point outside her first location of interest.

There was a convenient cluster of rocks at a good distance from the outside perimeter of the building, and given that it was one of many rock clusters in the area she expected it to be considered rather unremarkable to anyone paying attention as she carefully nestled out of sight amid the rocks.

No vehicles or signs of immediate movement were in the area, but satellite had shown tire tracks and she could spot a fresh paint of coat on a door through her binoculars. Initial research had shown that the building was owned by a local metalworker, which would make practical sense for work or family or be a reasonable cover story to any prying eyes like hers.

Hence the suspicion and recon.

From the angled roof and elaborate framing decorations around the lines of windows on the building and the sheltered porch, Natasha guessed it had been a farmhouse at one point in time, since abandoned and repurposed. Not a prime choice of real estate for the Red Room, but it would serve well as something out of the way that could be used for any sort of things with the right interior remodeling.

By the time a couple of hours had passed she had started to munch on a few of her snacks and made several small shifts in her positioning to keep from cramping anywhere. Her binoculars largely lay by her side in easy grabbing range as she occasionally double checked that nothing had changed in each of the visible windows.

The breeze was the only thing moving the trees and kept on nudging small sections of Natasha’s hair just barely into her eyes, fully reminding her that growing her hair back out to a ponytail length didn’t sound like a terrible idea.

She waited for another hour and was about ready to call the building off as a possibility before noticing a car on the horizon, headed along the stretch of road towards the building.

It was another several minutes in actually arriving, and a tall man hopped out of the car, seemingly not even bothering with locking it before striding over and into the building, only pausing to unlock the front door. The curtains on the ground floor were successively drawn open, and with the help of the binoculars Natasha was able to easily see the man settling down with a paintbrush at a canvas in the middle of the building’s living room.

An amused smile twitched across her expression.

No Red Room there, just a man with a private passion.

She didn’t hesitate about fully rising back to her feet, stretching with some relief before heading back towards the city proper. Enough of the day had been spent on the building to warrant waiting until the next day to recon the others, and it meant that she could better research them.

It was raining when she got up early the next day, contributing to a definite silence amidst the streets of Lipetsk as she stealthily made her way along, stemming more from practice than concern.

The first building she was planning for the day was more industrial in nature and seemed more promising than the old farmhouse, not least of all because of sheer size and being owned by what she guessed was a shell corporation.

Finding a good hidden observation point involved her getting a little closer to the perimeter than she would have preferred, but the upside was that it did get her the chance to see more specific details through the binoculars.

As with the farmhouse, nothing interesting happened for a bit beside the rain starting to let up into a slow drizzle.

Just as it was petering out a man stepped out from the nearest door, a gun on his hip opposite of the side where he reached for a cigarette, a spark of light quickly appearing in between his hands moments after.

Through the binoculars Natasha squinted at the Cyrillic patch on the man’s uniform, making out a name a few seconds later.

‘Mikhailov.’ A common enough surname not to be indicative of any particular connections, but the gun on his hip certainly leaned towards security for something worth protecting.

She liked the odds of this being the Red Room facility.

Further watching saw Mikhailov head back inside when he was done with his smoke break.

Through the course of the next half hour, several cars and a van arrived, parking in a neat row in front of the building and with each car’s inhabitants showing a badge to the security guard that came out of the front every time a vehicle approached.

With Mikhailov, the other guard, and the new arrivals that totaled to six men and two women that she knew were inside the building, with an unknown number of more individuals assumed to also be inside.

Not the worst situation she could have stumbled across, all things considered.

A moment’s thought prompted her to text a quick update and coordinates to Clint and Maria just in case if something went wrong inside. Better to give them a head start rather than make them try to retrace her steps.

And in case if whatever she saw in there sent her over some edge she didn’t know was left when there was a part of her forever second guessing just how far she really was beyond the Red Room…

With the messages sent along, she adjusted the focus on her binoculars to try to get a closer look at the building’s exterior doors. They didn’t appear to have more than a basic lock and deadbolt system on both the doors she could see, which boded well for getting inside. The door the security guard had continually emerged from also had a small inset viewing window, bringing that door to the bottom of her list.

So, she had a solid point of entry identified and hadn’t spotted outdoor cameras or a security system. That left deciding whether or not to try to head in or to wait out until evening.

Natasha didn’t love the idea of staying in her position for hours more, admittedly, and also didn’t want to leave and then come back without knowing who may have come and left during the day or what nighttime security measures were potentially implemented.

With movements made easy through practice, she folded the binoculars back onto her belt and carefully stood without looking away from the building. No one new arrived or came out as she stealthily approached the back door.

Some homecomings didn’t get a welcoming party.

She tested the handle, unsurprised when it didn’t turn and simultaneously reaching to pull the lock pick from one of her pockets. As locks went, the door had a decent one, but it still didn’t give her any trouble to quickly have the handle turning.

No one shouted an immediate alarm or started to question her as she slowly pushed the door open.

Inside the building, the hallway was only partially lit. As she took a first step across the threshold the light flickered on above her.

Okay. Motion control lights could be annoying for her, but could also help from the other direction. Good to be aware of.

She slowly tested the handle on the first door to her right, absentmindedly curious why it wasn’t labelled. It opened underneath her hand without so much as a squeak.

A male voice spoke in Russian. “I said another half hour, I am not ready yet.”

Natasha slipped inside, closing the door behind her while raising an eyebrow to Mikhailov in what was apparently a monitoring room. “That’s a rude way to say hello,” she quipped in Russian before darting the necessary couple steps forward to disarm him.

Mikhailov could only give a frustrated grunt as she took his gun from him and slammed him back against the wall, one arm pressed to his throat. “Who are you?” he managed to ask after a moment.

“Is this a part of the Red Room?”

“Who are you?” he repeated, his voice a little more careful.

She cast him one of her ‘man-eating’ smiles. “A curious daughter of the Room.”

What may have been a form of recognition flashed in his eyes. “The Black Widow.”

Her smile stayed as she pressed slightly harder on his throat, eliciting a brief choked sound from him. “So you know something of me and what I’m capable of. Is that motivation enough to tell me what the purpose of this facility is and why I’m wanted here?”

His eyes watered, but he still managed to speak. “I only serve as a guard. I do not know everything.”

“No, you don’t,” Natasha coolly agreed while sharply nodding towards a nearby monitor, “But as a good guard you sit here and watch what goes on in the facility. You have at least a decent idea of what occurs here, and can tell me at least that much.” As the guard opened his mouth she held his gun up towards his face, maintaining the ‘man-eating’ smile. “And remember that being forthcoming will be in your best interest.”

He swallowed before again opening his mouth. “This is a testing facility for girls in an experimental program. I do not know the entirety of what they train in, but martial arts are a significant portion of what they do. And I never see inside the lab.”

Natasha made a thoughtful sound. “How many other guards are here?”

“Two,” he tightly said.

“And would they come here if you called?”

Mikhailov nearly grit his teeth. “If I gave the right call.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Do you have family that you want to see again, Mikhailov?”

He directly matched her gaze. “Yes.”

“Then make the right call.”

Still keeping the gun pointed at him and subtly slipping one of her taser discs into her other hand, Natasha backed off of Mikhailov by a step to let him go for his radio.

To his credit, his voice remained entirely steady as he spoke into the radio. “Bykov, Sobol, we have an urgent security matter.” He set the radio back down without looking away from Natasha. “They will come.”

She waited for Bykov and Sobol to affirm that they had heard and were headed over on the radio before tossing the taser disc at Mikhailov. He almost immediately stiffened with a choked sound before succumbing to the effects of the disc.

Natasha made no effort to exactly soften his fall as he collapsed, instead quickly setting his gun down on the nearby desk before shoving Mikhailov out of visibility upon coming in through the door.

Sobol, as she gleaned from his uniform, came first and stopped a foot inside the room. “Mikhailov- ouf!”

A heavy hit to the back of the head successfully knocked Sobol out, and Natasha barely had time to partially drag him out of the way before the door again started to open.

She hit Bykov with the door as he was partially through it and barely registered his pained groan. As Bykov pushed forward a step, she better noticed that he was a very large man in a way that somewhat reminded her of Thor.

He practically growled at her as he angled around to find her. She was already moving and quickly leaned back as he threw a wide punch at her before she slammed her elbow into his side and thrust her other hand up under his chin.

The groan Bykov gave was quickly cut off as his head rocketed back and his body slumped against the door.

Natasha exhaled and watched for a moment to make sure he wasn’t moving before starting to move all of the guards. Mikhailov and Sobol she wouldn’t kill for the moment to leave at least a few definite witnesses of her visit, but she didn’t need them waking up to interrupt her and tied them together after searching for anything important on their persons.

The biggest take away was Sobol’s security badge. From the monitor, it looked as though what she guessed to be the lab had a scanner that his badge could hopefully access.

The other locations on the monitor seemed to be inside the other entrance and an all too familiar room lined with rows of beds and still sent a chill up Natasha’s spine.

_Her bed was in the corner, neighboring that of a girl who introduced herself as Elena when she leaned over to Natalia._

_“We should be friends here,” Elena said, her voice almost chipper._

_Natalia carefully regarded her. “I don’t know that we are supposed to have friends here.”_

_At that, Elena had pouted. “We are all here to make our family and country proud. We were chosen, and we weren’t meant to ignore each other.”_

_With that conversation she had made her first friend inside the Room, and they somehow found it in each other to giggle at the ridiculousness of sleeping with one wrist handcuffed to the bedframe the first night, before that became a part of normal for them._

_Elena eventually began to complain. When her friend was falling behind in her pliés and began to quietly comment on her wrist, Natalia later didn’t find herself surprised as Elena sputtered for breath in Tatiana’s chokehold before finally stilling, her body going limp._

_Madame B. didn’t tolerate failure, after all._

Reasonably, Natasha had always known the Room could have been continuing or redoing the Black Widow program. Actually seeing the signs of it made her stomach do an uncomfortable flip.

At least twenty-eight more girls, at some point in their training.

It did slightly complicate the situation.

After checking if the room had any indication of other security measures in the facility, she continued on towards the lab, keeping her movements as stealthy as she could underneath the continually activating lights.

No sounds carried outside of the lab, but up close the doors were evidently significantly nicer than any others in the building, wired to appear to only open with a scan of an appropriate badge, short of blowing it open.

A clicking noise came from the doors after she scanned Sobol’s badge, and the door easily opened for her.

After slipping through a locker room and changing area, the room on the other side was brightly lit and evidently medical, with trays of various instrumentation set beside two operating tables.

A woman in scrubs narrowed her eyes at Natasha. “Who are you here with? Did Sobol allow you in alone?”

Before Natasha could begin a reply an older man in scrubs peeked out from a back office, his eyes quickly going wide as he saw her. “Natalia?” His face went white and he could only stare at her for several moments.

The woman in scrubs gawked at her. “The original?”

Natasha wanly smiled. “In the flesh.”

The man managed a step towards her while the woman tried to be subtle about grabbing a scalpel from the nearest tray. “Natalia,” he repeated, his voice still tinged with awe, “it has been so long.”

She casually took a step forward while pointedly eyeing the woman, her expression calculating. “Are you planning to attack me with that scalpel or would you rather have a civil conversation?”

“Why did you come here? How did you know?” the man carefully asked while the woman frowned and obligingly set the scalpel back down.

“An associate of yours told me to come.” Natasha innocently shrugged with one shoulder. “I got curious.”

“To help or to hinder?” the woman tightly asked.

“That entirely depends on what you want.” Natasha let her eyes dangerously dance as she looked between the man and woman. “Sobol didn’t let me in, but I did gain unwitting access through him. And if I’m being honest I certainly don’t love the idea of a new Black Widow program.”

The woman didn’t hide picking the scalpel back up and angled it in front of her towards Natasha. “You cannot hope to stop this.”

“Natalia.” The man tried to sound like he was giving a warning, instead coming across vaguely fearful. “You are just one woman.”

A short, sharp laugh escaped her. “Only the one woman to graduate the Black Widow program. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what that means.”

Her comment had the man immediately darting back to the office and the woman starting to move towards Natasha. She snapped her arm up to fire a Widow’s Bite at the woman, who followed up with a frustrated groaning sound as she collapsed, knocking the scalpel against one of the operating tables in the movement.

Natasha rushed to follow the man, surprising him right outside the office and grappling for a hold of the pistol he had emerged with. He tried to angle it in between them towards her, exclaiming a moment later as she forced him to extend his arm.

It turned into a scream as she hit his elbow up with a cracking noise and simultaneously wrested the pistol from his hand, breaking a finger in the process.

He slumped over in an effort to cradle his arm, only to give a pained hiss as his fingers brushed against his arm. With unwitting tears in his eyes he looked up at Natasha. “What do you want here?”

“Is this the only location where the Black Widow program is being replicated?” When he didn’t respond after a few moments she wrapped a hand around his injured elbow, ignoring his immediate harsh swear and gasp in response. “Is this the only location?”

“As far as I know.” A note of hesitation showed in his expression, and he gave a half scream a moment later as Natasha pressed her thumb into his elbow. “I swear, this is the only location I know of that has had any significant success with replicating the Black Widow program!” he cried out.

“How many other tries?”

“I don’t know!” he irritably snapped. “You should know as well as anyone that information is not always shared amidst the Room!”

“Hmm.” She let some pressure off his elbow, moving on without acknowledging the relieved sigh he instantly gave. “Are there any records here that would talk about the other trials?”

The man avoided hesitating, almost tripping over the words in his haste to keep from prompting another elbow squeeze. “I have not looked through all the records available here to say, but we do have records on the program with you and our current batch of girls.” He managed a gesture with his good arm. “Over there, and in the office.”

“Do I need anything from you to access them?”

“…No.” His voice almost quavered.

She let go of his elbow while giving an overly polite smile. “Still on paper?”

He gave a mute nod.

“Good.” Natasha started to step away, ready for the man to try to swing at her with his good arm as she looped her arm around his. Twisting both their arms so that his was quickly angled behind his back and forcing him to lean over was an easy movement, and she followed by kicking a knee up to his shoulder to force him down.

The man weakly mewled as he hit the ground but made no attempt to get back up. “Natalia…,” he breathed out before going unconscious.

She stood over him for a moment, looking down with something harsh in her expression before she gracefully stepped around him to look at the various available records.

Inside the office was her first stop. Several small stacks of papers were neatly aligned on the tops of the three desks inside, and in skimming they largely consisted of assorted correspondence, forms for review, and signature requests. Two of the desks had a small shelf of books.

Anatomy. Biochemistry. Behavioral science. Nothing surprising.

The nearby filing cabinet seemed far more promising.

The top drawer slid open with a small squeak. Inside were a variety of manila folders labelled by year and month.

No amount of preparation would have stopped the anxious constriction of Natasha’s stomach and the sour taste in her mouth at the files about her and the other twenty-seven girls she had begun the Black Widow program with.

Admitted curiosity had her flipping through their pictures from the earliest days.

Elena, bright-eyed and hopeful. Tatiana, serene and still looking every inch the child she had started as. Then her own face staring back at her, innocent and unblinking.

All of them before the scars of the Room.

She kept on flipping through the rest of the pictures, the names of all the girls jumping to mind. Nina, Valeriya, Zoya, Irina, and so many more.

The files tracked their time and progress through the program. Each girl’s death date was labelled to the day beside a large ‘TERMINATED’ stamp.

Natasha took pictures of what she guessed to be the most beneficial reports and documents, especially in relation to the medical treatments applied to all the girls and specific procedures.

Her available files ended on her graduation date. Presumably the reports on the rest of her time with the Red Room were elsewhere, given that the lab benefited from the details of the program itself and not what she accomplished afterwards.

She stepped outside of the office, double checking that both the woman and the man weren’t waking up before going to the newer program files.

Natasha had barely managed to flip open a folder marked a little over a year earlier when she caught the clicking sound of the lab door.

Three desks, three doctors.

Another man and woman walked in after taking a few moments to seemingly sanitize in the changing area. Both gave a small gasp of surprise upon stepping into the lab proper and partially spotting the other man and woman unconscious across the ground.

The new man immediately turned to the other woman. “Contact the guards- hurgh!”

Natasha had tossed a flash bomb disc onto the ground in front of the newcomers before kicking out one of the man’s feet, immediately knocking him down. She followed up with kneeing the woman in the groin and blocking the punch she tried to throw and angling her elbow up to slam into the woman’s nose.

Blood rivulets ran through the woman’s fingers as she clutched at her nose, stumbling back a step. Natasha followed the movement with a side kick to the woman’s knee before quickly loosing her garrote and slipping it around the woman’s neck.

As the man began to scramble back up to his feet, Natasha dropped down to punch him in the side of the face while simultaneously kneeing him in the chest. The movement yanked the woman backwards, eliciting little more than a shallow gasp as she clawed at her throat.

Natasha paused over both of them to see if they were trying to get up, keeping some leverage on the garrote in the process.

When neither of them were doing anything beyond an airy whimper from the man, she stood back up to go to the files.

One girl had already died two months into the program from hitting the mat wrong in a training throw. For the rest there were an array of injuries, but no more fatalities.

The training regimens were fairly similar between the two iterations of the program, albeit with an uptick in when they started training in martial arts and no ballet lessons in the schedule.

As with the original program files, she documented what pages seemed to be the most important and some of what changes had been made to the Widow treatments.

A Doctor Lyudmila Kudrin’s signature had begun to appear in association with the development of the treatments. Hence why one of the girls having been sent to Kudrin’s lab just two days prior especially caught Natasha’s expression.

Yelena Belova. Her files showed that she was the standout performer in all the training and was reacting well to the medical trials for the program.

And Kudrin was taking a special interest in her. Natasha’s stomach did another anxious flip at that fact.

She knew what a dangerous force for the Room she had been directly after graduating. The world did not need another Black Widow like that.

Natasha photographed all of Yelena’s files and rummaged through the lab’s cabinets, pocketing a couple vials of what was appropriately labelled as ‘Black Widow Serum.’

Once outside the lab, the hallway lights continued to flicker on as she walked under them. Scuff marks on the floor showed a path of wear towards what seemed to be the training areas, classrooms, and dormitory.

By her initial count, there had to be at least one more man in the building, and she guessed at least one or two other adults to manage as many girls as there were. Nothing to be particularly worried about, beyond the fact that they could be the same people who trained her, if not similar enough. They wouldn’t necessarily be an issue, but they would put up more of a fight than the doctors.

The girls themselves were the unknown variable and had Natasha toying with the specialized smoke bombs she had brought along. The capsules opened with an electric shock from her Bites and were filled with a knockout gas she’d been told could take people down in under 30 seconds without needing to give them any medical attention afterwards.

(The SHIELD techs had been plenty happy to get a request for a tactical weapon “within their jurisdiction” from her rather than another trick arrow pitch from Clint.)

She pulled one of the smoke bombs out for easy access as she stopped outside of an unlabeled door down the hallway, also preemptively pulling out the filter mask the techs insisted she use if she was anywhere in the same building as the smoke bombs.

In the two most likely scenarios, the girls were either told to leave and hide from her, or they would be prompted to help fight her in overwhelming numbers. Steps towards the latter scenario would have her automatically throwing down the smoke bomb before further engaging anyone.

At least if anything happened Clint and Maria knew where she was at to begin their search.

From the outside of the door, Natasha hadn’t heard anything to indicate what may or may not be on the other side.

With a readying breath she slowly tried the knob. It easily twisted under her hand without any particular noise.

She opted not to test the hinges for sound and instead threw the door open, confidently striding in while surveying the area with characteristic ease.

The last man she had seen entering the building was inside, accompanied by another man and woman and what Natasha presumed to be all of the new Black Widow program girls. They were all scattered in pairs across the training area, some of them working on gymnastic equipment and others sparring.

Everyone was only staring at her for a moment.

Natasha evenly stared back for a moment before wryly calling out, “Not even a hello?”

Unintelligible murmurs started to come up from some of the girls while the man Natasha had seen outside took several steps towards her, his brow curiously furrowed.

“Who are you?” he finally called out.

Aware that her mouth was covered with the mask, she opted to hold her chin up a fraction rather than break into a dangerous smile. “The Black Widow.”

Surprise flashed through the eyes of all the other adults in the room.

The woman swore under her breath and started walking towards Natasha, not taking her eyes off her. “I told them it was only a matter of time before your return,” she darkly said, “The original Widow herself. I would ask what brought you here, but that can wait.”

In the background, the last man started to slip out of the room after exchanging a look with the man from outside. He evidently thought he was being subtle, but didn’t actually pass Natasha’s notice.

“I don’t know,” Natasha began to quip, “I could certainly stand to have some conversation.”

“You didn’t come here to make casual conversation,” the woman evenly replied.

“My plans can change.”

The woman was a little over five feet away from Natasha and arched a brow at her. “This is no polite homecoming, Widow.” She glanced over her shoulder towards the man from outside, somewhat nodding at him before returning her focus to Natasha. “Do you aim to destroy us after all?”

“I left for a reason,” she meaningfully said while taking a measured step forward.

“Exactly.” The woman clapped her hands together and raised her voice so that all the girls could hear her. “We are all exceptionally bereaved.”

Within the space of a blink, chaos had begun to break out within the girls as they started to grapple to choke each other, several locking their partner into a headlock after gaining the advantage.

Natasha tossed one of the smoke bombs out and fired a Bite after it while proceeding to engage with the woman. The quiet hissing of the smoke bomb accompanied her blocking an attempted punch from the woman. A split second later the woman landed a hit straight to Natasha’s gut.

She let out an instinctual exhale, slightly curving around the punch. The woman seized the chance to try to twist Natasha around into a hold. Before she could get a proper grip, Natasha yanked one of the woman’s fingers while pushing her arm away. She followed up with slamming an elbow to the woman’s side before whirling to face her, fists defensively raised.

Anger showed in the woman’s eyes, somewhat masked by a cough.

“It’s useless to fight the gas,” Natasha warned.

Behind both of them the man had tears in his eyes and was trying to dart for the back door, slowing down even as he ran.

As the woman went for another hit, she slightly stumbled aside, swinging wide. Natasha easily stepped away from her fist and grabbed the woman’s arm on either side of her elbow, leveraging it to just begin to be painful.

Without looking away from the woman, she saw that the various girls were slowly relaxing and variably stumbling into and away from each other.

The SHIELD techs certainly had plenty of reason to be proud of their work.

With an annoyed hiss the woman weakly strained against Natasha’s grip, breaking into a short cry as Natasha popped her elbow out.

“You may think you’ve won…” she began to irritably growl, trailing off as her eyelids grew heavier and beginning to fall.

Natasha let go of her arm and let the woman roughly collapse to the ground, barely waiting a second before stepping over her.

All of the girls had collapsed in various groupings around the room, and Natasha knelt to double check one of the girl’s pulse. It was steady and strong, no cause for concern.

Time to go after the final man then.

Natasha didn’t particularly worry about trying to be perfectly quiet, opting instead to quickly follow out of the door the man had snuck through.

The short hallway beyond the door was fully lit and ended in a single doorway. It had been left slightly open, presumably in the man’s haste to try and leave.

After slipping her mask down she pushed through without concern for being obvious.

In front of her, the man whirled around from where he stood by an array of wall-mounted monitors, his eyes wide. “They do not lie about your abilities.” One of his hands twitched towards where a pistol hung off his belt while his other unconsciously angled towards the room’s other door.

“That’s very flattering of you to say,” Natasha wryly hummed, adopting a sly smile as she spoke and took a measured step forward. “Should I ask what role you play in this new version of the program? Facilitator? Trainer? You certainly were eager enough to leave those girls behind, so not a handler, unless if the standards have lowered.”

“Someone has to protect ourselves.”

“Your superiors would be very proud to hear that you left their prize pupils behind to protect yourself.”

The corner of the man’s mouth quirked down for a moment. “Why did you come?”

“I was told a visit would be enlightening,” Natasha drily replied. 

“And now that you are here…”

She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I am not inclined to overlook the resurrection of the program.” Her eyes darkened. “They are twenty-seven young girls, after all.”

Or twenty-six, discounting the one Yelena Belova from the premises.

“To think that you overlook the glory of what you were shaped to be in the Room, distracted away from why you and everyone else make such a sacrifice of their childhoods.”

Natasha darkly laughed, a touch of bitterness to it. “And to think that rhetoric still works so well.”

A second later she had her Glock comfortably aimed at the man, a moment faster than it took the man to aim his pistol at her.

He gave a low laugh of his own. “Your training does show well. Some aspects of the famous Black Widow at least remain.”

“I’ll be nice and offer you the chance to put your pistol back.” She pointedly arched a brow. “You are aware of how quickly I came through that whole room of individuals.”

Again, the corner of his mouth quirked down. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised.”

As the man began to subtly shift his hold on his pistol Natasha immediately darted forward, slightly lowering at the knee and holstering her Glock as she moved. She aimed a punch at his gut before rising to the outside of his body and reaching for his wrist with the pistol.

He gave a sound in between a groan and a scream as she jammed her other hand into his elbow from beneath, knocking the pistol out of his hand just after he managed to fire a shot.

Natasha followed up with a quick kick to his side before dropping to sweep the man’s feet out from beneath him and following with a Widow’s Bite shot at his chest.

The man stilled with a low moan.

And the sound of something sparking immediately followed from behind Natasha.

She turned just in time to see a few flames flicker to life on the electrical panel the man had managed to accidentally shoot.

“ _Bozhe moi_ ,” Natasha irritably sighed.

The room had no fire extinguisher, she had no idea where to turn off the electricity, no baking soda on hand, and there was a room full of twenty-six unconscious girls behind her.

To further compound the situation, another shower of sparks flew from the panel, prompting her to take a cautious step back just as more flames sprung to life, growing larger even as she watched and progressively spreading along the wall.

Her stomach dropped. Even if she had an actual plan to get them all out, accessing the girls would be far too dangerous through those flames, let alone considering the fire’s inevitable spread.

Natasha growled in frustration as she darted to the room’s other door, finding herself in a side hallway that led to the main hallway. She left the building with only a glance back, not realizing she had tears in her eyes until the outside breeze brushed over her cheeks.

Twenty-six girls she hadn’t been able to do anything for beyond send them to their deaths. Only one she could still do anything for.

The morning’s rain was long since vanished with blue sky and the occasional white cloud drifting by above as Natasha hiked back to her transportation.

A look back towards the building revealed dark tendrils of smoke slipping out from its various cracks.

Natasha watched for several moments before wiping her cheeks and turning away, heading back for her hotel room.

Once she was settled back in she checked her phone, unsurprised to have responses from Clint and Maria.

Clint’s was very Clint. ‘ _Let me know if you need me. But I’m sure you’ll give them hell :)_ ’

Maria’s was also very characteristic. ‘ _Update?_ ’

They both earned a smile out of Natasha before she called Maria.

“Romanoff.” If she didn’t know Maria like she did, Natasha would almost have missed the note of relief to her voice. “Glad to hear you checking in.” She paused for a split second. “How was it?”

“The Room didn’t give up the Black Widow program. There was a new batch of twenty-eight girls.”

“Shit.” Maria’s surprise did show in her voice. “Was?”

“An accidental fire broke out while I was taking someone down.” Natasha’s voice was tight. “I didn’t have a good way to stop it and left the building smoking. There were twenty-six girls inside.”

Maria was quiet for a second before replying. “Twenty-six of twenty-eight?”

“One died early in the program, the other was recently sent to the program doctor’s lab. I have pictures of the files to send along.”

“You want to find this doctor’s lab.”

“The girl looks to be the top of the current program and she’s the last one.”

“I assume the pictures you have should hopefully have some more information for tracking down this lab?”

“From what I can see, and you’ve got better access to consult sat photos.”

“Send the files along and I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve got an idea for where it’s at. I doubt we’ll have an answer any sooner than several hours, but I’m guessing you’ll want to stay in Lipetsk until you know where to go?”

“I do know how to stay low,” Natasha drily replied.

“Are you going to want any backup?”

Natasha hesitated for a second. “I think this is better handled on my own, but I’ll call if I need a second set of eyes.”

“Stay safe, Natasha,” Maria meaningfully said before hanging up.

Natasha quickly sent the file pictures over and hesitated over calling Clint. Talking objectively about the situation to Maria was one thing, talking about it with Clint would inevitably have a few more emotions at play.

He was the one person she could trust to sometimes know her better than herself…

She opted to keep it to a text for the night, considering she needed to be ready to travel at any given point.

‘ _I fucking hate fires_ ’

\--

The sky was clouded over and grey as Natasha snuck up to the lab.

It had taken SHIELD sixteen hours and twelve minutes to find it, located in the countryside by Saratov. Around the ten hour mark Maria had told her that they’d narrowed it down to the region, and Natasha had been able to set off with flight arrangements shortly after.

Experience had been the only thing keeping her from getting too antsy while waiting in Saratov, though she still double checked over her weaponry no less than three times until Maria called with the location.

The lab was isolated enough for privacy, close enough to other buildings that any large events would likely not go unnoticed for long.

Natasha darkly reflected that at least she wasn’t planning on having the lab go up in flames.

A small group of SHIELD agents had been tasked with investigating the Lipetsk building, but Natasha didn’t expect them to gain much from it. Anything of actual interest would be snatched up by other members of the Room substantially before SHIELD could arrive at the scene.

A security camera was positioned towards each of the lab’s exterior doors, with a window to the side of the front door that seemed to be out of the camera’s field of view.

She tried the window, unsurprised as it didn’t budge.

So. There were no other sizeable windows around the building and entering through one of the doors could practically be announcing herself.

Natasha pulled a multitool from her belt and flipped out the flathead screwdriver implement, angling it to start to remove the window beading while keeping an eye out for any movement inside.

With the beading removed, she gently started to pry out the window pane, pausing every few moments to gauge the resulting sounds. After several moments the pane easily popped out, and she leaned it down against the front of the building before hopping up through the hole, landing nearly soundlessly inside the lab’s front room.

A fine layer of dust on the front desk showed that no one had actually used the reception area for quite some time.

Keeping a hand hovering over one of her Glocks, Natasha carefully proceeded into the back. All the lights were on, fully illuminating a hallway with several labelled doors. _Examination Room A, Examination Room B, Surgery, Patient Room A_ …

At least Kudrin’s labelling was useful.

Natasha paused at the end of the hall in front of the door labelled ‘ _Office_ ’.

Her arrival seemed to have gone unnoticed, and she had no idea who all else was around the facility. Kudrin could be worth confronting, but if she could just get the girl out without particular trouble, Natasha would be happy.

She backtracked towards Examination Room A.

Nothing inside but a pristine examination table and extensively labelled cabinets.

Examination Room B was basically the same, only differing by having restraints attached to the examination table.

Outside Surgery, Natasha’s hand hovered over the doorknob and she genuinely bit at her lip for a second. There were likely to be plenty of ghosts hovering behind that door, and she admittedly wasn’t sure that it was a great time to directly confront them.

Checking Surgery could wait until after the other rooms.

She slowly pushed open the door to the first Patient Room, carefully listening for any type of noise beyond the low creak of the door. When nothing jumped out or gave any indication of being present, she flipped the light switch on in the room.

The blonde girl from the files was strapped to the bed, her gaze snapping to Natasha while she quietly shut the door behind her.

Both of them carefully regarded the other for a moment.

“Who are you?”

Natasha broke into what she hoped came across as a comforting smile. “The original Black Widow.” From the reaction in Lipetsk, she figured the girls hadn’t properly been told about her. “I’m tasked with training you today, Yelena Belova.”

Yelena’s expression stayed guarded, but did fractionally relax. “Where is Doctor Kudrin?”

“She’ll come by later.” Natasha came over and started to loosen Yelena’s restraints, subtly eyeing every bit of tension still in the girl’s body. Gaining her trust would by far be the easiest way to get her out, if that could quickly be accomplished to at least some degree.

Yelena sat up as Natasha freed her wrists and reached down to help undo her ankles before slipping off the bed to stand beside Natasha. “Why haven’t I seen you before?”

“I’ve been occupied.”

Instinct had her recognize Yelena tensing to hit her, prompting Natasha to shift to block her. She did not expect Yelena to follow up with literally ducking under her guard and solidly punching her in the stomach before hitting the back of her knee.

It had been a frustratingly long time since she had fought children.

Natasha grit her teeth as she stumbled against the bed, catching herself on her elbows.

Two knocks came from the door before it began to open. “We are up for another injection, young Widow- ah. Well.”

In angling back to try and keep Yelena from grabbing her arm, Natasha saw Doctor Lyudmila Kudrin staring at her with a calculating expression.

“She said she was the original Black Widow,” Yelena told Kudrin while attempting to grab onto Natasha’s leg.

“I suppose you were responsible for Lipetsk then,” Kudrin commented to Natasha, almost seeming to ignore the fact that she and Yelena were somewhat exchanging blows. “Yelena, this woman came to burn your fellow Widows alive.”

A harsh laugh escaped Natasha. “It was one of your own people that started that fire.”

Kudrin continued. “Now she’s come to eliminate you.”

Something reminiscent of a growl came out of Yelena as she went to grab Natasha around the legs, throwing her weight into the motion.

“No,” Natasha began while knocking one of Yelena’s hands away and raising her other arm towards Kudrin, “I’m here to help you.” She fired a Bite directly at Kudrin’s chest, who quickly collapsed back against the wall with only a surprised gasp.

Yelena gave a startled exclamation as Natasha’s knee connected with her nose and almost instantly jumped back to try to stop the blood slipping between her fingers.

“I do not want to fight you, little one.” Natasha kept a note of irritation out of her voice while sidestepping another of Yelena’s attempts to grab her.

“Did you hurt my friends?” Yelena angrily asked, pausing for a moment to wipe some blood away with the back of her hand as she continued to glare at Natasha.

She meaningfully softened her voice. “No, I promise you that I attempted to help them before the situation got out of my control. I have had no intentions of hurting any of you, Yelena Belova.”

Her comment elicited a moment’s pause from Yelena, both of them defensively angled towards the other. “Why are you trying to help us?”

“The Red Room is turning you into a living weapon, little one, a tool to be used.” Natasha subtly readied a Bite as Yelena stiffened. “And I have been exactly where you are, the sole surviving Widow of the program.”

Tears welled up in Yelena’s eyes as her hands closed into fists. “They all are dead?!”

 _Be glad it’s not by your hand, this is kinder_ , Natasha thought before actually speaking aloud and taking a tentative step closer. “You’re a survivor of the Red Room, Yelena. We both are.”

“I… you came and did this.” The anger fully returned to Yelena’s eyes. “If you had not come everyone would still be alive!” she accused.

A brief sigh escaped Natasha. There was certainly an element of truth there. 

She slightly cocked her head to the side. “Why do you think I’m the only survivor of when the Black Widow program began?”

Yelena’s guard momentarily fell, her eyes going a touch wide. “An accident.”

Natasha gave another harsh laugh. “Not at all. We were forced to kill each other until the best remained.”

“You’re lying,” Yelena spat out before running towards Natasha’s legs.

She fell into Natasha’s arms after a Bite hit her shoulder.

After lifting Yelena over her left shoulder, Natasha fished her phone out with her right hand to text Maria and Clint.

‘ _Tell Fury I’ve got another Black Widow :)_ ’

\--

Natasha stood with her arms crossed in front of the one way glass outside Yelena’s holding cell, only glancing aside as the door opened.

“Hey, I ran for the good stuff,” Clint commented while extending a coffee cup towards Natasha.

She gave a small smile as she took it from him. “Thanks.”

He took a sip before nodding towards Yelena. “How’s she been?”

“She slipped out of her restraints and started to fight the medical team earlier before I got them to back off for the moment, otherwise she’s just been glaring and not so subtly sulking.” Natasha arched a brow at Clint. “Familiar at all?”

“Eh.” He shrugged. “You didn’t sulk and you know you took down several agents of the medical team. Plus you were a little more interested in being here, you just didn’t want more mysterious testing done.” He again nodded towards Yelena. “She’s gonna need a little more convincing that you actually helped her out and still want to help her.”

Natasha paused to drink some of her coffee. “Got any helpful advice for how to handle a Black Widow, Barton?”

“Not anything beyond what you already know, but, gain her trust, be there to support her, show her that there’s a whole wide world of possibility beyond the confines of the Room.”

“Mmm.”

“Hey.” Clint put his hand on Natasha’s shoulder. “Everything’s going to be fine. You know what you’re doing, you’ve got the background to really get through to her, you’re going to help her. Like a tiny Black Widow support group.”

Natasha rolled her eyes with a smile. “It’s only a group if there’s more than two of us.”

“Still. She may not realize it yet but she’s got you, Nat. You’ve got each other. And you’re going to be great for each other.”

“Mmm,” she repeated before drinking more of the coffee and handing the cup back to Clint. “Wish me luck.”

“You’re the best and you’re going to be great at bonding.”

They shared a knowing smile as Natasha stepped out of the side room before entering the holding cell.

Yelena’s expression stayed impassive. “Where did you take me?” She had initially given some accented English when first confronted with the SHIELD agents, but was evidently more comfortable to stick with Russian when she knew Natasha would understand her.

“SHIELD. They helped me when I first got away from the Red Room.” Natasha gracefully sat down across from Yelena. “And since I never properly introduced myself, you can call me Natasha.”

“Natasha.” Yelena carefully repeated her name like it was something entirely unfamiliar. “Can I trust you, Natasha?”

“I hope so, little one.”

**Author's Note:**

> And there's that! This basically just started with a thought of 'what if Yelena was still a little girl' and grew from there into this (and had me remember that Lyudmila Kudrin exists in canon, haha). There's a chance that this will turn into a bit more of a series following Yelena and Natasha here, but we'll just see where the inspiration takes me. :)


End file.
